Never Cry Over Burnt Milk
by Rhiannon A. Christy
Summary: Prompt #3: Wintershock where Darcy bakes for Bucky and things get a little too hot for the kitchen.


Darcy Lewis had many job titles; Scientist Wrangler, Lab Assistant, Dr. Foster's Assistant slash Best Gal pal, Dr. Banner's Zen Friend and Yoga Partner, Tony Stark's Babysitter, and the General Manager of All Things Avengers: in other words taking care of anything that the Avengers had need of that neither Hill nor Pepper wanted to deal with. Sadly this meant forcefully marching Clint to medical when he somehow shot an arrow into his own ass, but then again it also meant going shopping with Captain Rogers…she may or may not have convinced him it was now the custom to model different styles of underwear (boxers, briefs, boxer-briefs, bikinis, so on and so forth) as well as have pictures taken for future buying reference. She also may or may not have been threatened by the one and only Black Widow into giving her copies of said/unsaid Captain Undies pictures. The thing was that Darcy was sort of a one woman wonder when it came to the Avengers, but she never would have thought any of her jobs would include therapist to an ex-Soviet, ex-brainwashed assassin.

It had started pretty innocently enough. She had had a stressful day and after trying for three hours found that she was just too keyed up to sleep. She had gone down to the communal kitchen; because even though she had one in her rooms she rarely had time to keep it stocked with anything but Fruity Pebbles and Twinkies.

Her plan had been to bake, a habit she had learned from her Grandmother. Grandma Pansy (the oldest of four sisters: Pansy, Rose, Daisy, and Peony,) had dealt with chronic insomnia most of her adult life. Though she had never told Darcy in detail, Darcy knew there had been an incident sometime after her Grandfather died that made Pansy scared to sleep. When Darcy had stayed over as a child she would always be woken by the clinking and clacking of Grandma Pansy in the kitchen.

She had been fifteen when she had first wandered from her bed and to the kitchen, all times before she had been too weary to as her mother had warned her against bothering Grandma at night. She probably wouldn't have gone, but she had been staying the weekend because she needed the comfort of her grandmother after breaking up with her first boyfriend.

The kitchen had smelled wonderful, like spice and maple. Grandma Pansy had looked at her and gave her that smile that said everything would be alright and proceeded to tie an apron around her waist. Throughout that night she mixed and poured, whipped and frosted while she told Grandma how much she had loved Jace and how he had broken her heart when he had kissed Katrina. Grandma had just listened for much of the night, only really saying anything when she needed Darcy to mix or add something.

When the night was all done they had several cakes and a pie. Grandma had smiled at her, deep wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and reached out to wipe a flour dusted tear from her cheek and told her that Jace had been a fool, but there would be many fools in her life. She just had to wade through them until she found the right fool and then marry him. She had sent Darcy to bed then, where she flopped down and basically passed out on the sheets while still covered in flour.

That had been the first of many nights where Darcy would bake with Grandma Pansy until the sun came up. It had become habit for her, to tread down to the kitchen in her PJs and stocking feet to bake when sleep evaded her for whatever reason. Her mother hadn't been delighted in the least, mostly when after Grandma Pansy died Darcy had set up camp in the kitchen baking for three days straight. She had been so out of it by the end that she had caused several fires and had to be forcefully dragged out by her big brother Robert.

She had kept the habit of nighttime baking through college, her internship with Jane (seriously, after the evil elves in London she baked for a week. Not that Thor complained,) and throughout her stay at Avengers Tower. It wasn't strange to find her setting up shop in the communal kitchen after a hard day's work or while the Avengers were on a mission. It kept her calm and offered a peace of mind that alcohol and pills could not. No one ever minded, in fact Tony after Tony found out he had the entire kitchen remodeled and stocked with professional equipment and ingredients.

On a whole no one ever bothered Darcy when she had her midnight baking sprees. Not because she didn't enjoy their company, but she figured more out of respect. So it had come as a surprise one night when she had been halfway through mixing the batter for a spice tort that she heard footsteps.

She hadn't been expecting anyone at a quarter to one, but she _really_ hadn't been expecting to see the bare chest of one Bucky Barnes. She had stopped mid-fold and just stood there with batter dripping off her whisk and her mouth hanging open as the infamous Winter Soldier slid out a stool and sat down on the other side of the counter.

Neither of them spoke while Darcy continued to bake, the only noise in the room being the shuffling of Darcy's socked feet and the clink of kitchenware. When the kitchen began to glow from the early morning light, Bucky had simply stood up, gave a short nod and left back to his room. Darcy hadn't known what to make of it, but then again she lived in a tower with a god and several superheroes so she figured that was probably about as normal as it got around there.

Things continued the same way for the next few weeks. Darcy would get up to bake and a half hour or so later Bucky would walk in half dressed and just sit and watch her. She tried not to let it bother her, maybe he just couldn't sleep or maybe he had some weird baking fetish and he couldn't get Food Network in his rooms. Whatever it was she figured it was harmless even if he wasn't and just let it slide off her back.

Or at least she had tried. It had been almost two months later when Darcy finally cracked. She had been working on a batch of cookies and Bucky had relaxed more than she had ever seen him. He had been slumped over the counter, his head pillowed on his flesh arm with the fingers of his metal one playing with a bit of raw dough. Encouraged by this, Darcy had reached over and plopped a bit of dough on the tip of his nose.

She had frozen in shock at her own actions, fully believing that she was about to die, but Bucky had just sat up fully and laughed before removing the dough and flicking it at her. From then on out their nights baking had gone from silent and awkward to being filled with laughter and chatter.

Darcy had learned a lot about the man, about the nightmares that kept him up at night to the dreams he wished never to be woken up from. They had become fast friends, and Darcy would even dare to say he had become one of her best friends. More so Darcy realized that she might, maybe a little, be in love with him. Just a bit, like the kind of being in love that made her whole body ache when he was around and her heart feel constricted just thinking about the fact that he probably didn't see her that way. But you know, nothing big or anything.

"Doll, unless I'm mistaken the book says we need scalded milk not burnt."

Darcy jumped from the interruption of her thoughts and looked down at the over-boiling pot in front of her.

"Damn!" Working quickly, Darcy reached over and turned off the range and unthinkingly reached to grab the pot handle. Thankfully Bucky had been watching and intercepted before she could wrap her hand around it.

"And I'm very sure it doesn't call for a burnt dame either." Bucky grabbed the handle with his metal hand, pouring the ruined milk in the sink and filling the smoking pot with water. Darcy had been distracted all night, adding the wrong ingredients or completely forgetting them altogether.

"Sorry, I wasn't watching what I was doing." It wasn't the first time that Bucky had saved her from being burned or cutting herself, but normally it happened because she was a bit too enthusiastic about something, not because she couldn't stop thinking about the man beside her.

"No need to apologize to me, Doll. Though I would like to know what's wrong, I don't think I've ever seen you distracted while baking." And he had been watching her. He knew what she looked like when she was happy, both the full blown smile and the little upward tilt of her lips. He knew what she looked like when she was upset, angry, or worried. But lately there was a look he couldn't quite catalogue. It was a strange mix of joy and despair and it was always directed at him.

"Just a little more tired than I had thought I was is all. I'm fine." Without looking at him, Darcy reached under to grab another pot from the cabinet and filled it with fresh milk. She doubted he would buy her excuse, the man was a walking lie detector….admittedly that was something she found attractive, but not when used against her.

"Bullshit, I know when you're tired; the skin under your eyes and the tip of your nose goes all pink. So what is really going on, you've been acting strange for weeks now." When Darcy continued to avoid him he sidled up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. "Darcy, what's wrong?"

Darcy felt her heart race at his touch and cursed to herself. It was seriously unfair of him to pull out Concerned!Bucky. But what was worse was how a man she wasn't even sleeping with was more observant of her than all her of past boyfriends put together.

Unsure if her voice would remain steady she simply remained silent and tried to ignore the feeling of him behind her.

"Darcy, you are kind of worrying me." Bucky sighed when Darcy simply continued to stir the quickly warming milk. She had been acting increasingly strange lately, and he would admit that it bothered him. Steve and suggested that she was just working through things and would talk to him when she was ready. Sam on the other hand had a different theory, one that even though he doubted, he liked better.

Tired of waiting for her to acknowledge him he put a little extra pressure in his touch and forced her to turn. He had been ready to push any and all information out of her, but he stopped short when he looked at her.

"Oh." He blinked, Darcy's cheeks were flushed a bright red, her breathing and heart rate were increased, and she was biting her lip as she looked at him from under her lashes. "Oh."

"What the hell does that mean?" Annoyed and unsure what to do, Darcy placed her hands on her hips and leveled him with a stare. A stare that quickly melted away as she felt Bucky's flesh hand skim up her neck and into her hair.

"It is an exclamation of surprise or acknowledgement." Bucky grinned down at her and the little huff she made whenever he did something that she reluctantly found amusing. As long as he was reading things correctly he owed Sam an apology for laughing in his face.

"You are such a little shit, I hope you know that." Darcy rolled her eyes, but gave into the touch at the base of her skull. The man really knew how to use his fingers…and by God if the massage of her scalp was anything to go by she could end up a very happy woman.

"_Your_ little shit, I hopeyou know _that_." He probably hadn't taken such a big risk since he sought out Steve those months after the fall of Shield, but he figured things had worked out then…

"I'm beginning to realize that, yes." Darcy's soft laugh was cut off as Bucky leaned in and claimed her lips. For months she had been dreaming of this, wondering just how rough or gentle he would be. Though now that he had his lips glued to hers she really couldn't recall what she had imagined he would be like, only that it paled compared to the real thing.

Darcy squealed as Bucky's hands untangled from her hair and went to grasp her behind. She would have made a joke, but before she could utter a word he picked her up and swung around to place her on the counter behind him.

Dishes clattered to the floor, the fabric of Darcy's pj pants quickly soaking up the spilled water and oil. Not that she really cared, Bucky had latched his mouth to the curve of her neck and seemed adamant in trying to devour her inch by inch. She would've continued to not care but there was a really bad smell filling her nose, something soured and burnt….fuck!

"The milk!" Darcy pushed a groaning Bucky off her and jumped to the floor. Of course, being her she slipped in a puddle of egg-white and would have fallen if Bucky hadn't have righted her.

Looking across from them at the stove, Darcy could do nothing but hide her face in her hands and laugh. The milk had not only burned, but and boiled over until it covered the entire top of the range. Black smoke curled up from the bubbling puddles, and Darcy was thankful that the pot had contained only milk. If there was one thing you didn't want to have to work with was melted burnt sugar, God damned kitchen napalm her grandmother called it.

"I think that we should probably put this cake off for another night. Next try we might just end up burning the kitchen down." Bucky laughed, and after making sure that Darcy wouldn't fall again, he went to turn off the stove and start cleaning up the mess.

"Yes, well if you would just stop distracting me." Or not, she really didn't want to stop what they had been doing, but Stark would kill her if he knew what a mess she was making of his kitchen. It didn't matter that he never actually used the room for anything but storage for leftover takeout.

"I'll tell you what, I'll stop distracting you long enough that we can get this clean, but then you have to allow me to distract you for the rest of the night." Bucky turned back around and winked at Darcy.

"You've got a deal, but I think I might be willing to be distracted the rest of the weekend, maybe longer."

If Bucky worked faster after that, well Darcy would never tell a soul…she might've teased Bucky but that was neither here nor there.

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><p>Author's Note: Sorry it took me a bit, I had started this but then finals hit and I got busy. Probably a little more back story than you were wanting, but the story kind of took off on me, so I hope you like it anyway.<p>

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**


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